Studies
by ZeldaDragon
Summary: Half-hearted studying usually turns into something else for bored students. Namely conversations involving Quidditch for Oliver Wood. Who's his unlucky victim this time?


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Nice and short. Just a bit of rambling about my favorite Keeper, and his love of Quidditch. I guess it'll be set around Chamber of Secrets, but if you ignore one tiny line, you can set the date. =P

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. Except my Trinity boots.

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The corridors were empty as Oliver Wood lugged three school books to the library. He had tons of homework and studying to catch up with due to his many hours of Quidditch and the Weasley twins had decided that tonight was a good night for a loud, rambunctious party in the common room. He had wanted to stay and join in the fun, but that little voice in the back of his head kept whispering _study, Oliver, study…_

So that's what he decided to do. Rather reluctantly, he pushed the library doors open and trudged inside. The shades had been pulled over the windows blocking the moonlight, so Wood found a small table between to large bookshelves lined with candles. With a wave of his hand, five of the unlit candles flamed to life. Sighing, he dropped his books on the table and plopped in one of the two armchairs beside it. He had been absentmindedly leafing through his ancient runes book when a quiet voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Wood looked up. It was Roger Davies, the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Interesting…

"Sure, go ahead,"

"Thanks," The Chaser sat and opened his own ancient runes book. "To be honest, with all this talk of the monster and the Chamber of Secrets, I'd rather not be alone…" He glanced at the desk by the door, where Madam Pince was scribbling notes in one of her record books.

Wood grinned half-heartedly. "I understand,"

Davies regarded the opposing captain thoughtfully. "You're not worried about walking through the halls by yourself?"

The Keeper shrugged. "There are at least three professors everywhere you turn, so we're pretty well protected,"

"I guess," The other boy turned his attention to his studies.

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Wood spoke. "You guys ready for Slytherin the weekend?"

"Leave it to you to turn the conversation to Quidditch," Davies chuckled before shaking his head slightly. "Flint has been rather violent recently…I'm not looking forward to going against him. Not to mention that brat of a Seeker he's let on the team."

The Gryffindor shook his head. "I don't understand how the blonde rat even got in,"

"His father," The Chaser rolled his eyes. "And those brooms,"

Wood snorted. "Only the worst have to buy their way on,"

"Indeed,"

Both boys went back to their books, working for a while in comfortable silence, the only noises being the flipping of pages or the scrapping of quills on parchment.

Davies glanced up at the older player across the table. "Hey, Wood," he said slowly, considering his words carefully, "Do you have any tips for us this weekend?"

The Keeper raised his eyebrows. "You're asking _me _for tips to help _your _team?"

The Ravenclaw's eyes flashed. "I was only asking for help -"

"Well," Wood cut his rebuke off. "The first thing to know about Montague is that he likes to throw the Quaffle at his opponents' heads, so watch out for him. Warrington, on the other hand, will come at you head on to try to knock you off your broom as he tackles for the ball. And Flint…" he trailed off, catching the stunned look that had replaced the anger in the other's expression.

Davies smirked. "I guess you really are the best one to go to for help, eh?"

The Keeper just shrugged again. "Anything to help you beat Slytherin,"

"Go on, then," The Chaser pulled out a clean piece of parchment, ready to take notes.

Wood smiled as Davies looked back up. "You are a pretty good captain to get tips from every source available."

"I try," The smile was returned.

"Now as I was saying, Flint will do anything within his power to push you off your broom or steal the Quaffle. He is definitely the one you'll want to avoid as much as possible…"

And so the infamous Oliver Wood rambled on and on about his beloved sport for the next two hours. Poor Roger Davies used up three rolls of parchment and two and a half bottles of ink taking notes.


End file.
